#machine made rugs

[rugs-cleaning]

Machine-Made Area Rug Cleaning in Bridgewater & Warren, NJ

Restore the vibrancy of your machine-made area rugs with professional cleaning services by Rugs Cleaning New Jersey in Bridgewater, Newark, Warren, and other cities that we serve throughout our NJ service area.

[businesssinfo]

Rugs can be classified based on their weaving method, which influences their visual appeal, texture, durability, and cost.  However, selecting the right rug from the vast array of options can be challenging. Concluded a Rugs shop in Coimbatore or  Carpets Shops in Coimbatore or in your nearby locations for the best one.

[onlineshopbkks-blog]

Title: The Best Place to Buy Oriental and Persian Carpets in Thailand: OnlineShopBKK

Introduction:

Oriental carpets and Persian rugs are renowned for their exquisite craftsmanship, intricate designs, and rich cultural heritage. If you're in Thailand and seeking to adorn your home with these timeless treasures, look no further than OnlineShopBKK. This Lazada store offers an extensive collection of oriental rugs in a variety of materials, including silk and wool. With rugs sourced from regions such as Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Kashmir, Turkey, Russia, Tibet, Nepal, and India, OnlineShopBKK ensures a diverse range of options to suit every taste and preference.

Unveiling the World of Oriental Carpets and Persian Rugs:

OnlineShopBKK is a haven for carpet enthusiasts, whether they are collectors, interior designers, or homeowners looking to add a touch of elegance to their living spaces. The shop features a wide selection of hand-knotted rugs, showcasing the exceptional craftsmanship that has been passed down through generations. For those on a budget, the store also offers machine-made rugs made from bamboo silk, cotton silk, acrylic, and other materials.

Exquisite Designs and Variety:

One of the remarkable aspects of OnlineShopBKK is its ability to cater to different design preferences. From classic Persian flower designs to rugged country geometric patterns, there is a rug to captivate the vast majority of people. Whether you're seeking a traditional masterpiece or a more contemporary piece for a modern home, the store has an extensive inventory to meet your specific needs.

Convenience and Accessibility:

OnlineShopBKK's presence on Lazada Thailand provides customers with the convenience of browsing and purchasing oriental carpets and Persian rugs from the comfort of their homes. The user-friendly interface and detailed product descriptions enable shoppers to make informed decisions. By clicking on the following link, you can explore the store's offerings: https://s.lazada.co.th/s.QIGgO?dsource=share&laz_share_info=556825600_100_1600_0_556825600_null&laz_token=2628dd4f41326b3cd67c8724c1a0cda6

Personalized Service and Contact Information:

OnlineShopBKK prides itself on offering personalized service to its customers. For a more hands-on experience, potential buyers can arrange carpet viewing appointments. To schedule an appointment, you can contact OnlineShopBKK directly through the following channels:

* Phone: 0950123615

* Line ID: orc49

* Email: onlineshopbkk@yahoo.com

Conclusion:

When it comes to finding the best place to buy oriental carpets and Persian rugs in Thailand, OnlineShopBKK on Lazada stands out as a top choice. The store's impressive selection, including hand-knotted and machine-made rugs in various materials and designs, caters to all preferences and budgets. With the added advantage of personalized service and convenient online shopping, OnlineShopBKK is your go-to destination for authentic and captivating oriental carpets and Persian rugs. Embark on a journey to enhance your living space with the beauty and charm of these timeless creations.

[premierrug]

How to Properly Clean and Maintain a Machine-Made Wool Rug?

Machine-made wool rugs are a popular choice for homeowners due to their durability, softness, and timeless appeal. However, like any home decor investment, they require proper care to maintain their beauty and longevity. If you own a machine-made wool rug, you’ll want to follow the right cleaning and maintenance techniques to keep it looking fresh and vibrant for years. Here’s a comprehensive guide to help you care for your rug the right way.

Regular Cleaning Routine

1. Vacuuming is Key

One of the best ways to keep your Machine-Made Wool Rug in pristine condition is regular vacuuming. Wool fibers tend to trap dust, dirt, and debris, which can make the rug look dull over time. Use a vacuum with a gentle suction setting to remove dirt without pulling on the fibers. If your rug has fringes, avoid vacuuming them directly to prevent unraveling.

2. Shake It Out

For smaller rugs, taking them outside and giving them a good shake can help loosen embedded dirt and dust. This method is especially effective if done once a week alongside vacuuming.

3. Spot Cleaning Spills Immediately

Accidents happen, and when they do, it’s essential to act fast. Blot any liquid spills with a clean, dry cloth—never rub, as this can spread the stain. Use a mild wool-safe detergent mixed with water to gently dab at the stain. For tougher stains, consider using a mixture of white vinegar and water.

Deep Cleaning Tips

4. Steam Cleaning Once a Year

While regular vacuuming is great for day-to-day upkeep, your machine-made wool rug will benefit from an annual deep cleaning. Steam cleaning is a great option, but be sure to use a wool-safe solution to prevent damage. Avoid excessive moisture, as wool is highly absorbent and can take longer to dry.

5. Professional Cleaning When Needed

If your rug has deep-set stains or a lingering odor, professional cleaning might be the best option. Experts use specialized equipment and techniques to clean wool rugs without causing shrinkage or fading.

Preventative Care for Long-Lasting Beauty

6. Rotate Your Rug Regularly

To prevent uneven wear and tear, rotate your rug every few months. This is especially important if the rug is placed in a high-traffic area or receives direct sunlight.

7. Use a Rug Pad

Placing a rug pad underneath your machine-made wool rug provides additional cushioning and prevents it from slipping. It also helps reduce friction between the rug and the floor, which can extend its lifespan.

8. Keep Shoes Off the Rug

Encouraging a no-shoes policy in carpeted areas can significantly reduce dirt buildup and wear. This simple habit can go a long way in maintaining your rug’s cleanliness and longevity.

Dealing with Odors

Over time, wool rugs may develop a musty smell due to moisture absorption. Sprinkling a small amount of baking soda on the rug, letting it sit for 15-20 minutes, and then vacuuming it up can help neutralize odors.

If the odor persists, try airing out the rug in a shaded outdoor area on a dry day. Avoid direct sunlight, as prolonged exposure can cause the colors to fade.

Conclusion

Caring for your machine-made wool rug doesn’t have to be complicated. By following these simple cleaning and maintenance tips, you can ensure that your rug remains in excellent condition for years to come. Regular vacuuming, spot cleaning, occasional deep cleaning, and preventative measures like using a rug pad and rotating the rug can all help preserve its beauty. Whether it’s a treasured centerpiece in your living room or a cozy addition to your bedroom, taking the time to maintain your wool rug properly will keep it looking fresh and elegant for many years.

[geniecarpetmanufacturers2023]

Discover exquisite machine-made carpets in India at Genie Carpet Manufacturers. As a leading carpet manufacturer, we blend traditional craftsmanship with cutting-edge technology to create premium quality rugs. Our diverse range showcases intricate designs and durable materials, making Genie Carpets the preferred choice for style and longevity.

Source: https://www.geniecarpetmanufacturers.in/machine-made-carpet-manufacturer-india/

[globalfloor]

We as manufacturers of hand-tufted rugs and other types of handmade carpets can offer you different styles in your design and sizes too. Email us at info@surekasgroup.com or whats ap at +91-9839141651 or visit at http://www.surekasgroup.com for more.

[malavera]

Peaches: “Would you be so kind in lending a hand?” (18+) — Logan Howlett

summary: the friendly old man neighbor of yours is helping you with your wash day

warning: the setting of this one-shot is AU no correlation to Wolverine & Deadpool, SMUT! MDNI, fingering, female oral receiving, age gap (legal), no use of Y/N, the use of pet name peach, sir kink, squirting

wc: 3.5k (well it's a full shot not a drabble ehe)

creds: i forgot where the divider is from, creds to the creator!

dedicating this one to my favorite authors!

@velvrei @wolverinesleftclaw @stark-ironman @lovelybucky1 @cyber333angel @dollverine @joelsgoldrush

peaches masterlist

The day had finally come when you decided enough was enough. The laundry had been sitting there for three days, staring at you from the corner of your room like a silent accusation. Today was the day you would conquer it. Armed with your resolve, you hauled the overflowing basket to the laundry room. But as fate would have it, the universe had other plans.

The washing machine, that steadfast appliance you’d trusted for years, chose this very moment to betray you. The once familiar hum was replaced by a groan, a sputter, and then—nothing. You stared at it, disbelief turning to frustration as you realized the mountain of clothes in your arms was going nowhere. Your favorite pair of undies, buried somewhere in the pile, would have to wait.

You let out a long sigh, leaning back against the machine, its cool surface doing little to soothe your annoyance. Arms crossed, you dialed your father’s number, hoping for some semblance of a solution.

“Dad, the washing machine broke,” you said, half hoping he’d have a quick fix, half dreading his response.

There was a pause before he spoke, his voice calm, almost too calm. “Ask Logan for help, he’s pretty handy with stuff. I won’t be back until 8 PM tonight, buttercup.”

You nearly dropped the phone. Logan. Of course, it had to be him. The very thought of knocking on his door, asking him for help, sent a thrill of anxiety coursing through you. Why did it have to be him?

Logan Howlett—the man who occupied your thoughts far too often, the man who was the face of your wildest dreams. Just the mention of his name made your heart race. And now, you were supposed to ask him for help? The universe certainly had a twisted sense of humor.

You ended the call, staring at the washing machine like it was some cruel joke. The burnt toast theory, they called it. Sometimes, when things went wrong, it was the universe’s way of steering you toward something better. But as you stood there, contemplating the inevitable encounter with Logan, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a blessing in disguise—or a test you weren’t sure you could pass.

Logan Howlett had been a fixture in your mind for five long months, ever since he moved into the neighborhood. It wasn’t just his rugged good looks or the way he carried himself with that effortless confidence; it was the way he seemed to have slipped so seamlessly into your life. Your dad, always quick to befriend a fellow drinker, had taken to him immediately. They were practically inseparable, sharing beers on the front porch, watching games in the living room, and even lingering over meals in the dining room.

And there you were, sneaking glances every time Logan was around, feeling that unmistakable flutter in your chest whenever he caught your eye.

Today, though, was different. Somehow, you found yourself standing on his porch, heart pounding as your fist hovered in mid-air. What were you thinking? Asking Logan for help—it felt too forward, too direct. But here you were, ignoring every ounce of self-doubt, raising your hand to knock on his door.

You barely had time to second-guess yourself before the door swung open. And there he was, the embodiment of everything that had been haunting your thoughts for months: tall, effortlessly sexy, his dark hair tousled just right. He was wearing a white shirt that clung to his broad chest and shoulders, tucked into denim jeans that fit him perfectly. You couldn’t help but notice how the summer sun cast a warm glow on his skin, making the moment feel almost surreal.

“Hey,” Logan’s voice broke through your reverie, casual yet deep enough to send a shiver down your spine. He squinted against the sunlight, his expression shifting into one of familiarity. “I was about to come over. Your dad called and asked me to check on something.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady as your mind raced. “Yeah, the washing machine broke. Dad said you could help… Would you be so kind in lending a hand?”

You could hear your own voice, slightly strained as you tried to strike the perfect balance. Not too high-pitched, not too low. Not too eager, not too aloof. But before you could overthink it any further, Logan flashed you a small smile, one that made your heart do a little flip.

“Yeah, sure, Peach.”

And there it was—that damn nickname that never failed to turn your insides into mush. It started innocently enough, the day your dad brought home a bag full of peaches and peach-flavored drinks. Logan had been there, chuckling at the sight, and ever since, he’d called you “Peach” with that easy, teasing tone. Now, every time he said it, you couldn’t help but melt a little, even if you tried to play it cool.

As you turned to lead him to your house through the backyard, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the universe’s way of pushing you closer to the man who had taken up residence in your thoughts.

“It made a really loud noise and it was shaking really bad, the sound was a bit scary,” you admitted, your voice tinged with worry. “And also, can you check if my clothes are alright? Did it tear them off or something?”

Logan nodded thoughtfully, a low hum of consideration escaping him as he surveyed the situation. “Where did your dad put his tools?” he asked, his gaze already scanning the room.

“Oh, it’s right there,” you said, pointing towards the shelf against the wall. Determined to be helpful, you stood on your tippy toes, stretching to reach the toolbox. But before you could grasp it, Logan moved past you with ease, his hand already closing around the handle.

“Careful, Peach. It’s pretty heavy,” he murmured from behind you, his voice close enough to send a subtle shiver down your spine. His presence loomed over you as he reached up effortlessly, the scent of his cologne mingling with the warm summer air.

You stepped back, feeling a mix of flustered and grateful as he handled the heavy toolbox with ease, making you feel small and protected all at once.

“O-okay.” The stutter slipped out before you could stop it. Seriously? Get a grip, you scolded yourself internally. Trying to regain some composure, you quickly added, “I’m just—gonna… fix you something to drink.” You gestured awkwardly towards the kitchen, hoping to retreat before you embarrassed yourself further.

Logan nodded absentmindedly, his focus entirely on the washing machine that seemed to be on its last legs. He didn’t even glance your way, which was both a relief and a disappointment. You took a nervous step back, then another, finally turning and heading to the kitchen, hoping a moment away would help you steady your nerves.

Leaving his presence created an unfamiliar ache in your chest, a tug of reluctance you hadn’t anticipated. It was as if some part of you didn’t want to leave his side, didn’t want to be apart from the quiet strength that Logan exuded. The thought of retreating to the kitchen, of putting physical distance between you and him, felt wrong, almost unnatural.

You wanted to stay. You wanted to watch him work on the broken machine, to see those skilled hands in action, to listen to the steady, assured way he moved and spoke. But at the same time, you knew you couldn’t trust yourself around him. Not when your heart raced at every little interaction, not when just being near him made you feel so unsteady.

You didn’t have the confidence to be casual, to act like you weren’t hanging on his every word and gesture. And you certainly didn’t have the strength to face the feelings that threatened to overwhelm you every time you were close to him. So instead, you sought refuge in the kitchen, hoping the distance would help calm the storm inside you, even as it left you aching for more.

Twisting the faucet, you watched as the water streamed out, the steady flow almost hypnotic in its simplicity. The kitchen was quiet, the only sound the gentle rush of water hitting the sink. You leaned forward, letting the coolness soothe your heated skin, and splashed your face with the cold water, hoping it would bring some clarity to your muddled thoughts.

For a moment, the shock of the cold jolted you back to reality, away from the overwhelming thoughts of Logan that had been swirling in your mind. You closed your eyes, letting the droplets drip down your face, trying to steady your breathing and collect yourself. It was just a broken washing machine, just a neighbor doing a favor.

You swung open the fridge, your hand instinctively reaching for your favorite peach-flavored soda. The cool metal of the can felt reassuring against your palm as you pulled it from its place. With a satisfying hiss, you cracked it open, the sweet, fruity scent immediately filling the air.

Reaching for a tall glass, you filled it with ice, the cubes clinking softly as they settled. Then, you poured the bubbly soda over them, watching as the fizzy drink cascaded down, swirling and dancing around the ice. After inserting a straw into the glass, you carefully picked it up, the cool condensation forming on the outside of the glass. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and made your way back to where Logan was.

"Here you go," you announced, placing the glass on the nearby table. Logan turned his attention from the washing machine to you, his eyes briefly darting to the drink you’d set down. A smile curved on his lips, the warmth in his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “Thanks, Peach.”

“Ehe…” You offered a nervous smile in return, your cheeks heating up at the casual endearment. Trying to steady your fluttering nerves, you grabbed the straw and shoved it into your mouth with a little more force than intended. It was your way of silencing the awkwardness bubbling inside you, a desperate attempt to keep any embarrassing sounds from escaping.

“So, your dad’s going on a date later today, huh?” Logan’s voice was light, but he noticed the nervousness you were trying to mask. His intention was to ease the tension with casual conversation.

“Y-yeah, he’s working now, but that’s what I’ve heard,” you replied, nervously fiddling with the straw. You decided to sit on the edge of the table where Logan’s drink was, adjusting it carefully to avoid spills.

Logan glanced at you, then back at the washing machine, his smirk widening. “You okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you responded, a bit defensively.

Logan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve never been too thrilled about him dating. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of Logan’s question pressing on you. Taking a deep breath, you decided to let your guard down. “Well, it’s just… I’ve always felt like I have to compete for his attention. It’s silly, I know, but it’s hard when you’re used to being the center of someone’s world.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he gave you an understanding nod. The moment of connection hung between you as Logan turned his attention back to the washing machine. He worked with focused precision, his hands moving deftly as he made the final adjustments. The clinks and whirs of the machine were soon replaced by a steady, rhythmic hum.

“There we go,” Logan said with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire his handiwork. The washing machine was back in action, its gentle whirl now a reassuring sound.

You let out a relieved sigh, watching the machine function smoothly. “Thank you so much, Mister Howlett. I really appreciate it.” you said, your gratitude sincere as you adjusted from your sitting position to stand up. You set down your now-empty glass on the table, the slight clink of the glass breaking the brief silence.

Hearing you address him as "Mister Howlett" sparked something within Logan—an unfamiliar, yet undeniable feeling. It was a sentiment he had been trying to avoid, one that stirred within him despite his best efforts to keep his distance. The formal address seemed to intensify the feelings he had been wrestling with, making them more pronounced.

You're not the only one who has a crush, he does too.

From the moment Logan had closed the trunk of his truck while moving into the neighborhood, you had been on his mind. He remembered the day vividly—watching you step out of your car in a beautiful white sundress that hugged your upper body and flowed gracefully. The way the dress accentuated your figure, combined with the ease of your movements, had captured his attention in a way he hadn’t anticipated. As you came knocking on his door with your dad beside you to welcome him into the neighborhood, those peach-flavored pie you brought had been lingering in his mind ever since. He wondered if you smell as good as that pie where he devoured in one full bite that night. And here you are, wearing the same white sundress that's gotten him obsessed with.

As Logan took a step forward, you instinctively stepped back, forgetting about the table behind you. Your hips brushed against it gently, causing a small jolt. Logan had intended to reach for the glass of your beverage, but his proximity brought him uncomfortably close.

With a casual yet deliberate movement, Logan took the glass from behind you, his body nearly brushing against yours. He lifted the glass in front of you, tilting his head slightly with a smirk. “Thanks, Peach,” he said, his voice low and warm.

Without breaking eye contact, he chugged down the drink, his gaze locked onto yours. The act was both confident and intimate, making the moment feel charged with unspoken tension. The shared space between you seemed to crackle with a newfound energy as you both stood there, the air thick with the lingering effects of the brief but intense connection.

You cleared your throat, feeling a flush of heat spread across your cheeks as you managed to wiggle your way out from the proximity of Logan. You made your way toward the washing machine, watching it work through the glass as your laundry tumbled inside.

“Tell me, Peach,” Logan’s voice came from behind, smooth and deliberate. “Is your taste as good as this peach soda?”

Your breath hitched, and your mind raced. Am I hearing this right? Is this a dream? You thought, trying to process his words. Despite the possibility of it being a dream, you couldn't bring yourself to face him. Instead, you leaned against the washing machine, the rhythmic vibrations grounding you.

“Um—W-what do you mean, s-sir?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely more than a whisper.

You could feel Logan’s presence closing in behind you, the air growing warmer and thicker as he approached. The vibrations from the washing machine seemed to pulse more intensely against your torso, amplifying the sensation of his proximity. Each step he took made your heartbeat quicken, your senses acutely aware of the space between you shrinking.

Logan’s shadow fell over you, and you could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath, though not yet touching your skin, was close enough that you could sense its warmth. 

“You wanna know what ‘m thinking, Peach?” He mumbles behind your ear. You wished he didn’t hear your shuddered breath and the swallowed saliva down your throat from the way he makes you nervous.

“I don’t think so, Mister Howlett.” you managed to reply, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain your composure.

“Naw, why? Afraid you might like it?” You could feel the smirk slowly forming in his face.

“I-”

“I’m thinking of bending you against this washing machine, lift up your very short sundress and get on my knees. Slowly taking my time smelling that scent… of arousal from your pussy, where I know, she’s dying to be touched, to be fingered, to be fucked, by me.” You gasp once you feel the bulge from his rough jeans, teasingly grinding against your ass earning a chuckle from him as he continues,

“Oh yes I know, Peach. I know how much you want to feel this cock inside you. Should’ve known better to close your blinds at night when your delicate… fingers desperately trying to reach that high, because I’m always watching you, Peach. Even though you’re such a pain in the ass with that, Peach flavored pie, and that fucking beautiful smile. I wanna turn those smiles into tears… Tears of pleasure from me, fucking this cunt.” You gasped loudly as Logan roughly thrust his bulge against your ass, hitting you against the washing machine.

“L-Logan,” you stammered, your voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

“Call me, Sir,” Logan’s tone was laced with full authority, each word deliberate and commanding. You choked back a swallow before you corrected yourself.

"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about." You stood on your ground.

"Yeah? Let me remind you how it feels then, this time, with me." Logan grunted in your ears before you felt a rush of cold air blowing against your damped panties resulted from Logan lifting your skirt up. You whimpered once you feel his fingers grazing against your soaking wet cunt, earning a mocking tut from Logan.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Your cunt says otherwise, Peach." He rubs you through the panties before ripping them off of you, the sound piercing through the room.

Logan crouched on his knees, proving his promise to you the one where he'd like to take his time smelling you from down your legs up to your thighs, dragging his warm tongue on your delicate skin upwards earning a moan from you. Logan hummed once he connected his lips to your glistening pussy lips, his tongue swirling and lapping your gushing juices.

You feel like god had just granted you your wishes into doing this sinful things. You finally can experience the feeling of his tongue against your throbbing cunt that keeps on gushing. Logan moaned, while he laps your juices up like a dog. "You taste just as I imagined, peach-flavored cunt." He murmured against your pussy.

A rosy hue crept across your cheeks hearing his statement. "Come on, Peach. Gimme more." Logan breathed out, his two hands that were gripping your thighs pushed and lifted you upward attempting you to bend over more over the top of the washing machine. Spreading your legs wide, you moaned out loud once you feel his tongue crazily lap your pussy like a dog in thirst.

"S-sir.." You squeaked, feeling yourself close.

"Hmm, yeah, give it to me, Peach." Logan grunted, burying his face even more.

"Ngh, I'm gonna-" Before you could finish that sentence, you froze as you heard your dad's voice calls out to you.

"Buttercup! I'm home, have you managed with the laundry yet?" He hollers from the other room. You gasped while Logan didn't even budge, he kept resuming his action.

"Y-yes, Dad! Everything's good now!" You holler back, holding yourself back from moaning.

"Do you need any help, darling?" You heard the sound of footstep, your eyes widened and hurriedly answer, "No- No, Dad! Everything's good, I'll be coming in a second." Logan smirked.

"Okay darling, I'm gonna get some rest." Your dad holler back as his footsteps fading away. You sighed in relief before you gasped when you feel Logan entering two fingers inside your cunt.

"What a naughty little girl, she needs to make herself cum before she gets back to being the dotting daughter huh?" You whimper to his words.

"Please, sir. Don't stop, it feels so good.."

"Yeah? Wait till you feel my cock." Logan vowed. He curled his fingers inside you, effortlessly flicking your g-spot before he stood back up on his feet, leaning against your back. He gently guide you to stand on your feet even though it's impossible for you as you're still in daze from his fingers still working their magic.

Logan whispered all kinds of filthy things in your head to get you to reach your high. "Is this just like what you imagined, peach?" — "Feels so good yeah?" — "Yes it does. Are you gonna cum for me?" — "Yeah come on, almost there, I know," — "Make a mess on my fingers, baby."

As you choked a loud moan, Logan's other hand went to silenced you while you came gushing down on his fingers. Your whole body shook while Logan holds you in place as you're coming down your high.

"There you go, good girl." You panted once you've gained your strength to stand on your own, you turned around and to find him smirking, a notable wet droplet covered some parts of his jeans as you now just learned, that you squirted on him a little.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth, his gaze never leaving yours as he tasted what's remained of you on his fingers.

"Hmm, taste just like a peach."

let me know if you want me to start the journey for Logan & Peach 😉

[maheshexportsblog]

Handloom Carpets vs. Machine-made Carpets: Understanding the Difference

Are you looking for a new carpet?

Carpets come in a wide variety of choices, from hand-loomed to machine-made. In this blog post, we will discuss the main differences between these two types of carpets, as well as some common questions that you might have when buying a new carpet.

Hand-loomed carpets

Hand-loomed carpets are made by hand on a loom. This process is very time-consuming and labor-intensive, which is why hand-loomed carpets are typically more expensive than machine-made carpets. However, hand-loomed carpets are also known for their superior quality and durability. The knots in a hand-loomed carpet are typically tighter than the knots in a machine-made carpet, which makes the carpet more resistant to wear and tear. Hand-loomed carpets also tend to have a more unique and artistic design than machine-made carpets.

Machine-made carpets

Machine-made carpets are made on a machine, which allows them to be produced more quickly and cheaply than hand-loomed carpets. However, machine-made carpets are typically not as durable as hand-loomed carpets. The knots in a machine-made carpet are not as tightly knotted, which makes the carpet more susceptible to wear and tear. Machine-made carpets also tend to have a more uniform and less artistic design than hand-loomed carpets.

Which type of carpet is right for you?

The best type of carpet for you will depend on your individual needs and budget. If you are looking for a high-quality, durable carpet that will last for many years, then a hand-loomed carpet is a good option. However, if you are on a budget or you are looking for a carpet that is easy to care for, then a machine-made carpet may be a better choice. For more details: Click Here

[onlineshopbkks-blog]

Title: Discover the Exquisite World of Oriental Rugs and Persian Carpets at OnlineShopBKK

Introduction:

Online shopping has revolutionized the way we purchase goods, making it easier than ever to access a wide range of products. When it comes to finding high-quality oriental rugs, Persian carpets, and Kilim rugs, OnlineShopBKK is the ultimate destination. With an extensive collection sourced from countries like Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Kashmir, Turkey, Tibet, Russia, and India, this online store offers an immersive experience for rug enthusiasts. Not only does OnlineShopBKK provide a diverse selection of rugs, but it also offers carpet washing and repairing services along with a range of Indian groceries. Let's delve into the world of OnlineShopBKK and explore the exquisite offerings.

A Vast Array of Handcrafted Rugs:

OnlineShopBKK takes pride in curating a wide range of authentic, handcrafted rugs from various regions. Whether you're searching for Persian carpets, Kilim rugs, or oriental designs, this online store has something to suit every taste. The rugs are meticulously crafted by skilled artisans, preserving traditional techniques and showcasing the rich cultural heritage of the regions. From intricate patterns to vibrant colors, these rugs add a touch of elegance to any space.

Diverse Origins and Material Choices:

OnlineShopBKK caters to diverse preferences by offering rugs from different countries. Each region has its unique style and characteristics, ensuring a rich selection for customers. Whether you desire the elegance of Persian rugs, the boldness of Afghan designs, the cultural charm of Indian carpets, or the timeless beauty of Turkish kilims, OnlineShopBKK has got you covered.

Furthermore, the store provides rugs made from various materials, including silk, wool, silk and wool blends, and machine-made options. This diversity allows customers to choose the material that best suits their preferences, budget, and desired level of craftsmanship.

Convenience and Accessibility:

One of the standout features of OnlineShopBKK is its commitment to providing a seamless shopping experience. The store operates through Lazada Thailand, a popular e-commerce platform, enabling customers from anywhere in Thailand to access their vast inventory. Placing an order is quick and straightforward, and customers can expect delivery within just two days of order placement. This efficient service ensures that customers can enjoy their purchases without delay.

Comprehensive Services:

OnlineShopBKK goes above and beyond mere retail by offering additional services to cater to customers' needs. If your beloved rug needs washing or repairing, OnlineShopBKK has got you covered. The store provides professional carpet washing and repairing services to help maintain the beauty and longevity of your prized possessions.

Moreover, OnlineShopBKK is not limited to rugs alone; it also offers a range of Indian groceries. This unique combination allows customers to explore different cultural facets while shopping conveniently from one platform.

Contact Information:

Should you have any questions or require assistance, OnlineShopBKK's dedicated customer support team is ready to assist you. Feel free to contact them via:

Phone: 0950123615

Line: orc49

Email: onlineshopbkk@gmail.com

Conclusion:

OnlineShopBKK is a treasure trove for rug enthusiasts, offering an impressive collection of oriental rugs, Persian carpets, Kilim rugs, and more. With a diverse range of materials and origins, the store caters to different tastes and budgets. The convenience of online shopping, coupled with prompt delivery, makes it an ideal choice for rug enthusiasts across Thailand. The additional services such as carpet washing, repairing, and Indian groceries further enhance the overall experience. Visit OnlineShopBKK today to discover the perfect rug that will transform your space into a masterpiece of elegance and cultural appreciation.

[emiliaoleary]

Hooking rugs that look like dogs

Here's how I do it:

The process I use is called rug hooking (not latch hook or punch needle or tufting, though it is the forerunner of the latter two techniques). Rugs are hooked by pulling loops of fabric strips or yarn through the holes of a base fabric with a coarse open weave, like burlap, or linen, or rug warp. The loops are pulled through the fabric with a squat-handled hook whose business end is shaped like a crochet hook.  There are no knots and the loops aren't sewed down in any way.  The whole thing stays put just by the tension of all those loops packed together in the weave of the foundation fabric.

This isn't a true detailed tutorial but a walk-through of my particular process. The same information is on my web page, emilyoleary.com .

I hook with yarn, rather than with cut strips of wool fabric, which is what many rug hookers use.  I can get a looser, more organic distribution of loops with yarn than I could with wool strips, which are hooked in neat lines. 

Mostly I use wool yarn. In terms of yarn weight, I can use DK, worsted, or Aran.  If I'm using thicker yarn, I leave more holes un-hooked; if I'm using finer yarn, I hook more densely or double up lengths of it.  I particularly like using single ply yarns (like Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride or Malabrigo Worsted).  I don't keep count, but I think I usually use around two dozen types and colors of yarn per dog.  

This is my yarn wall in my apartment. Mostly brown and gray yarn!

I start from a small drawing in my sketchbook, then I head to FedEx office to use a copy machine, blowing up the drawing repeatedly and experimenting with how big the dog rug should be. 

After transferring the image onto my linen, I immediately go over it with Sharpie, because the Saral is really difficult to see and really easy to rub off.

The rug is held taut by a PVC quilting frame that I set on my lap.

I push my hook down through the fabric with my right hand and my left hand stays below the fabric and guides the yarn while I pull it up and through with the hook. Not every hole in the fabric is hooked. Hooking every hole would make the rug too dense. I do hook pretty densely, though-- If you pick up one of my rugs you’ll see they have a slight curl to them, which is because they’re hooked pretty tight. I'm using all different weights and types of yarn, so it's a challenge to keep the overall tension even.

I hook my loops at varying heights to create a very low relief. Sometimes I trim the loops to make them fluffier or wispier or to shape a particular part. I look at a reference photo while I work and pull out and redo sections a lot.

My q-snap frame can accommodate the growing dog rug. I have extenders to make it bigger and I can clamp around my hooking.

The back of a rug looks like lines of little stitches. The lines are little worm trails snaking around because lines of hooking are not supposed to cross over each other. It's important to start a new length of yarn rather than cross over a stitch you already made! I read this when I first started and took it to heart. It makes it much easier to undo and redo hooking if you have to (and I redo sections A Lot). It also keeps the back from getting too bulky and resulting in uneven wear on the back of a functional rug that gets floor use.

When I’m done hooking everything I turn the rug over and brush watered-down Sobo glue on the edges of the dog, making sure to get one or two of the outermost lines of hooking. I do a couple coats of this thinned out glue. I'm careful not to use so much that it seeps to the front of the rug. When the glue is dry I cut the rug out, but I don't cut so close that the loops don't have any linen to keep them in.

​ It generally takes me at least several months to finish one dog rug. My hooking frame and yarn bag are very portable (though bulky) so I can hook out and about at coffee shops or the library or a brewery if there's enough space and light.

Hooking in the wild makes me an ambassador for making things in general and rug hooking in particular. I answer people's questions and always emphasize how relatively easy it is to get started hooking. Sometimes I get anxious that other people will hook rugs that look like mine but better, but I think that working in a traditional medium means you should share your knowledge for the good of the craft.

[rheeblogs]

★ — PIT STOP

★ — pairing: trucker!abby x fem!gas station clerk

★ — your boring job brought old men, homeless people, and little kids maxing out their parents cards on candy. but when she came in, your stomach turned inside out. | fyi, i'm aware most trucks don't have backseats or anything 😭, but let's imagine for the plot period

★ — warnings: southern!abby, strap-on sex, car sex, dirty talk

🔖 — moodboard by me :)

The hum of fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly as you stood behind the counter, absentmindedly flipping through a magazine. The little gas station was quiet tonight, save for the occasional car rolling in to fill up. You didn't mind the solitude, though--it gave you the chance to enjoy the peaceful hum of the night.

But that peace shattered when the low rumble of a diesel engine filled the air.

You looked up just as a massive, dusty, semi-truck rolled into the parking lot. Its headlight cut through the darkness, and it came to a halt right in front of the store. Moments later, the driver's door creaked open, and down climbed a woman who seemed like she'd stepped right out of a trucker-themed romance novel.

She was tall, built like she spent half her life wrestling grizzly bears, and had a confidence in her swagger that could stop traffic. Blonde hair peeked out from under a well-worn baseball cap, and her Southern accent was thick as molasses when she spoke.

"Evenin''," she drawled, stepping through the glass door. Her blue eyes locked onto you immediately, a slow, crooked grin spreading across her face.

"Good evenin," you said, smiling politely, though you couldn't help the way your heart skipped a beat. She was... gorgeous, in a rugged, intimidating kind of way.

"Damn," she said, stopping in her tracks as she looked you over. Her eyes roamed shamelessly, lingering a second too long on the curve of your hips and the swell of your tits before flicking back up to your face. "Didn't think I'd be gettin' a view like this at sum' gas station inna middle of nowhere."

Your cheeks flushed immediately, and you stammered. "I--I think you're lookin' for the snacks. They're over there." You pointed toward the aisle, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck.

Abby chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your stomach flip. "Oh, darlin', I'm not lookin' for snacks. Especially when somethin' as sweet as you is in front of me."

You blinked, your lips parting slightly in surprise. Most of the truckers who rolled through were gruff and standoffish, more interested in their coffee than conversation. But this one? She was relentless.

"I, uh..." you trailed off, not sure how to respond.

Abby stepped closer, leaning an elbow on the counter. The scent of diesel fuel and a faint hint of cologne wafted off of her. "You're a pretty lil' thing, ma'am."

"Thank you," you said, almost too softly.

"It's no problem, honey. You got the kinda face that can make a girl forget she's been drivin' for sixteen hours straight," Abby said, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "And don't even get me started on that body of yours. Lord have mercy."

You couldn't help it--you laughed, a flustered, nervous sound. "Do you always flirt with gas station clerks, or am i just special?"

"Oh, you're special, all right," she said, her grin widening. "Reckon I'd remember a face like yours anywhere."

You shook your head, biting your lip to hide your smile. "What do you want, Abby?"

Her eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "What makes you think my name's Abby?"

"Your truck's got "Anderson's Logistics'' painted on the side, nd' your nametag has an 'Abby' patch in bold letters." You said, gesturing to the embroidery.

"Sharp, too. I like that," Abby said, straightening up. "But if you must know, I came in for a coffee. Black. And maybe your number, if you're feeling generous.

Your face grew hotter at her boldness. "Coffee's over there," you said, pointing to the back.

Abby chuckled again but did you said, sauntering over to the coffee machine with the same easy confidence. She poured herself a cup, took a long sip, and then returned to the counter.

"Not bad," she said, placing a couple crumpled bills on the counter. "But I think this place just became my new favorite spot. Couldn't imagine why."

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. "Whatever, Abby."

"You wanna take a ride?" Abby asks you abruptly, gesturing to the door.

"In your truck?" You asked, a sly smile creeping on your face.

"Sure, that too."

----

"God, honey. Your body fits my lap perfectly, huh?" Abby teases, as you adjust yourself on her muscular thighs, the friction from your jean shorts making you eager.

"You do this every pit stop?" You ask, your hands placed on her shoulders to hold your balance.

"No ma'am. I told you, you're special, darlin'." She tells you, looking you deep into your eyes, hers a piercing blue. "But enough talkin'. I got sumthin' in my back seat, if you're down for that kinda thing."

And with that, you climb out of her lap and into the backseat, your cheetah print thong peeking out, following a smack to your ass from Abby.

She damn near tears your tanktop off, leaving your chest clad in your matching cheetah print bra, and the shoulder tattoo with words 'Angel' black and bold, close to your collarbone.

"Angel, huh?" Abby says, biting her lip.

You nod, tilting your head, giving her access to you neck. She starts to kiss it slowly, taking in your scent of woody vanilla, getting sweeter everytime she works her way up or down.

"You smell s'good, honey." Abby says, easily lifting you back onto her lap. Her hands fly to the back of your bra, unclasping it with ease.

"Fuck, Abby. You're s'strong." Her hands are on your hips, forcing you to grind on her lap, making your pussy wetter by the second.

"Lay back, honey."

----

Abby's kisses are tender, yet demanding. She kisses with so much passion, like you were the only girl she needed in her life. Who knew a pit stop would make her this crazy?

You're laying in her backseat, leg propped up over her shoulder, as she grips your thighs and sloppily eats you out.

"Pussy's sweeter than honey, darlin'." She says, her voice sending chills into your clit, the vibrations stimulating you more than she was alone.

"Mmm..--just like that, Abby, fuck." Your manicured hands scratch her scalp, the semi-neat braid coming undone in the process. Abby makes eye contact with you, gripping your thighs tighter.

It's almost as if Abby learns your body quickly, the way her tongue thrusts in and out of your pussy, leaving your legs quivering after every movement.

She stops, leaving you confused.

"Under the seat, that box. Grab it." You look around for a second, spotting a black box covered by a jean jacket under her seat. You move the jacket and open the box--revealing a seven-inch clear strap.

"It's new, I promise. Haven't gotten a chance to use it yet."

You look at the strap and back at Abby, who has a very convincing look on her face.

"Then, fuck me with it, Abby."

----

Abby secured the harness around her waist, trying to make sure not to hit her head on the roof of the truck in the process. It was veiny, girthy, and looked like it could absolutely ruin you.

She grabs your hips, letting you hover over her lap, watching you let your panties that originally were pooling at your ankles, fall to the truck's surprisingly clean floor.

"You wanna' ride this shit, honey?" She says, still holding your hips steady.

You nod your head up and down, and slowly sink onto her strap.

"Yeaaaah... sink on it, darlin'. Just like that." Her praises were making your head spin, and the way her strap felt so deep inside of you almost felt like it was attached to her.

Abby jerks up, letting the rest of her inches sink of inside you.

You grind against her, the pleasure almost bringing you to tears. Your rhythm steadies, the rocking of your hips sending Abby into orbit. The base of the strap is hitting her clit, causing her hands to grow tighter around your ass.

"Fuckin' me like you mean it, huh baby?" Her voice. Her accent. Her everything. You were so close, beginning to go from grinding to practically jumping on her dick, feeling your stomach start to heat up.

"Mmmph.., I'm--fuck, Abby.. close." That's all Abby needed to hear. She takes a firm grip on your hips, and roughly fucks her strap inside of you.

"Yeah, angel. Take this fuckin'.. dick," Abby starts, throwing her head back as the base of the strap hits her pussy just right.

"I'm--Abby.." You manage to moan out.

"All over me, honey. Fuckin' cum on my shit." She pounds into you, the both of you gushing, all over her lap.

"You truly are an angel, miss." Abby says, holding you close as you catch your breath.

You put your clothes back on, checking your phone's time. Twenty minutes. Not too bad.

"I really gotta get back on the clock." You say, giving Abby your phone to insert her number in.

"I understand, darlin', so do I. I had a great time." She smiles, fixing her tight white tee to put her jacket back on.

"I did too, Anderson." Abby leans in to kiss you, almost as if she could get used to doing this more often. You climb out of her truck and make way back into the gas station.

"Drive safe, Abby."

"Oh, don't you worry about bout' me, honey," she said, tipping her hat slightly as she started the engine. "I'll be back here soon enough. Just don't go breakin' hearts in the meantime, alright?"

"I'll call you after my shift, Anderson."

"Perfect."

And as the roar of her truck faded into the distance, you realized you were already looking forward to her next pit stop.

🏷️ — @rosemariiaa, @d3arapril

[noctude]

this idea has been in my brain for over 2 months and I finally had time to make it. is this too earnestly cringe to upload? i am beyond the capacity to care. enjoy

now on youtube!

[link to drive folder w/ downloads including instrumental]

Everything was chill back in Hermitcraft 6 (lying)

Then Grian got up to his usual tricks 

The name of the game is kill or be killed

No swords no bows no PVP skills

First Rendog found his inner fish

But he couldn’t stick the landing and his bones went squish

Stress flew through the dares with talent and grace

But she didn’t catch the totem and she fell on her face

Then Ren came back with a sinister vice

Tricked X with a race and blew him up twice

Looks like steel beams can’t be melted by slime

‘Cause Jevin didn’t see Mumbo’s tower in time

Stress set a trap at the shopping district

And dropped Scar right into a pufferfish pit

Cub’s stunt got stuck and X felt robbed

So he got a skeleton to finish the job

This is the Hermitcraft showdown of Hermitcraft destiny

Players, mobs, and explosions as far as the eye can see

And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be

This is the Hermitcraft showdown of Hermitcraft destiny

Tango and Impulse were shopping at the mall

But the store detonated and it killed them all

Grian had a no-good-very-bad-day 

And when he made it back home he got blown away

Then False broke a block and before she could speak

A giant underground explosion sent her into next week 

Cleo signed up for a warehouse tour

But she didn’t read the waiver and she fell through the floor

And TinFoilChef went laughing to the grave

Then without another word went back into his caves

Tango’s game was a race against the clock

And Keralis threw an egg at the most explosive block  

Now revenge is a dish that’s best served cold 

But Bdubs got it boiling as Cleo foretold

And when Joe got the rug pulled from under his feet

He tried to play it cool but he couldn’t take the heat 

This is the Hermitcraft showdown of Hermitcraft destiny

It’s 90% explosions as far as the eye can see

And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be

This is the Hermitcraft showdown….

In another dimension

With danger abound

Mumbo threw his ender-pearl

But missed solid ground

And Doc had played smart

But Grian played mean

He was dead on arrival,

The trap unforeseen

Then one player remained,

One Dragon Head left-

For the ride of his life, 

Iskall auctioned his death

He beat Joe Hills And ZombieCle-o

And every other member of the Dragon Bros:

FalseSymmetry and BDoubleO

And Grian and Mumbo Jumbolio 

Also Rendog, Jevin, TangoTek and Cubfan, 

Stress, Scar, and X just couldn’t beat the Iskallman

TinFoilChef or ImpulseSV

Doc can rock with blocks but can’t flee

So Grian and Impulse forged a team

And together they built a death machine

With a narrative arc from beginning to end

And a wild surprise around every bend

When the show and the ride were finally done

Our champion knew that his course had run

All that remains from the end of this fight 

Is a piece of bloodstained diorite 

This is the hermitcraft showdown of hermitcraft destiny

Just way too many explosions - where do they get all that TNT???

And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be

This is the Hermitcraft showdown

(this is the Hermitcraft showdown)

This is the Hermitcraft showdown  

(this is the Hermitcraft showdown)

This is the Hermitcraft showdown 

(this is the Hermitcraft showdown)

Of Hermitcraft destiny

[geniecarpetmanufacturers2023]

Genie Carpet Manufacturers: Leading the Way in Nylon Printed Carpets in India

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Situated in India, Genie Carpet Manufacturers represents a harmonious amalgamation of tradition and technology, showcasing expertise and commitment to excellence.

What sets Genie Carpet Manufacturers apart is their mastery in the craft of nylon printed carpets. Leveraging advanced printing techniques and high-grade nylon materials, they offer a diverse range of carpets that combine durability with aesthetic appeal.

Their collection boasts a fusion of intricate designs and vibrant patterns, catering to a wide spectrum of preferences. From classic motifs to contemporary themes, Genie Carpet Manufacturers' nylon printed carpets exude elegance and sophistication, enhancing the ambiance of any space they adorn.

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The allure of Genie's nylon-printed carpets extends beyond borders, gracing homes, offices, and commercial spaces globally. Their carpets are synonymous with reliability, adding a touch of sophistication and comfort to diverse environments.

In conclusion, Genie Carpet Manufacturers stands as a beacon in the realm of machine-made carpet manufacturers in India, offering a range that blends durability, aesthetics, and cultural richness. For those seeking exceptional quality and innovation in carpeting solutions, Genie Carpet Manufacturers presents an unparalleled opportunity to experience the finest in nylon printed carpets, delivering both functionality and style. Explore their collection and discover the perfect blend of artistry and durability for your space.

[dmitriene]

Jsyk your guidelines say they're closed, so probably why no one's requesting.

Anyway, pervert konig? Standard stealing your lingerie and pretending like he has no idea how it's under his pillow or in his hands or in his drawer. Tripping over himself to help you apply sunscreen or lotion or wash your back, anything to feel your skin.

cw: perversion, reader into it, disgusting stuff maybe.

könig is a right perv, and he can't really do anything about this fact, he tried really hard to restrain this unfamiliar desire and unquenchable, almost aching craving, curling deep in his gut and affecting not only his wandering thoughts and fantasies, but also his now always aching cock, stirring at just a little glimpse towards you, it's hard to blame himself when you're always so attractive, gracing him with little smiles and soft uttered greetings, as if on purpose.

though, you have no idea what's happens in the head of your silly roommate, he's just some awkwardly cute man you live with, polite, preferring to stay silent most of the time, either because of all the military thing he gone through, or just because he's not really socially accustomed, a thing that clung to him from the childhood, but you didn't really push for details, he is who he is, and you don't have any problems.

könig can land a helpful hand in cooking, help you with cleaning around the small apartment, he's at your side even if you struggle with something personal, your head and body aching from pushing too much through your own life, and his eyes all wide and concerned, saxe blues gazing at you when he tilts his head in front of your face, gravelly, heavy with accent words asking what made you so sad, as he fidgets with his hands, nervous, yet so caring.

maybe, he gets mixed signals because of how sweet you are towards him, you can't blame the poor guy, he doesn't often gets that close to people, and you don't refuse könig's calloused, rugged touch when he moves you by the curve of your waist from his way, or digs his meaty fingers in the achy muscles of your shoulders, making your eyes flutter up at him, a pitched, honeyed spoken plea not to stop pouring from your lips, forcing him to swallow down a groan.

könig really, really shouldn't use your kindness like that, sneaking into your room and plucking the first panties he can feel from the drawer of your closet, stuffing them in the pocket of his sweats like a last coward on the earth, stalking back to his own room high on his toes both from excitement and a dull throb his cock gives in response, already soaking pre through the fabric of his boxers.

fisting his rudy, swollen cock through the flimsy, cotton panties, soiling them with endlessly leaking precum and repeatedly spurts of cum, going more watery by the time, even with his tip so so rudy and sensitive, veins webbed all over the girth, thick and bulging, but he can't stop bucking his hips in tight coil of his fist, whining and almost sobbing at the intense, searing pleasure, babbling your name under his nose strained and desperate.

you find them couple of days later, when deciding to do a general cleaning and refresh the laundry, digging your hands in the basket and scooping up everything you can grab, except, some of the small things, like socks, tops and underwear, always manage to fall beneath your feet, so after getting your hands empty, filling the washing machine, you bend down and pick up what managed to escape.

curling a finger in your panties, you catch up on the sight of the gusset all crumpled, soiled milky with dried, crusting cum, and you know, for sure, that it's not your trick, there's no one to be blamed except the man you've gone comfortably familiar with, high and muscular, having those adorable, trusting eyes, a person you can rely on, ending up being such a pathetic perv, yet, somehow, your tummy suddenly flutters.

you don't fear to confront him about it, könig was just right busy sorting his own clothes in the room, checking what needed to be refreshed, when the door bangs abruptly behind him, and he turns around a little surprised, immediately meeting to face your panties, that same, ruined pair, now hanging off your finger, proof of his guilt, and he can't utter a word except a hitched gasp, bright flush high and feverish on his cheekbones, voice stammering.

normally, you should have shouted at him, kicked him out, maybe even called the police, but könig get's punished by your own hands, with his knees digging into the rough floor surface of his room, your form sitting on the edge of his comfortable bed, legs spread wide, obscene, to show him how you finger your cunt beneath your underwear, leaving him looking.

panting and whimpering at the squelching sounds, unable to see your tight, soppy hole, because he's been naughty, deciding to steal and act like a pervert instead of telling you about his silly crush, so now, könig would sit obediently like one, just looking as you wrench an orgasm out of yourself by crisscrossing your fingers, chastising him with breathy moans, watching through lidded eyes how he rolls his hips and gazes inseparably between your twitching thighs, fascinated and utterly struck.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ where he finds home ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you and your daughter have managed to fall into a comfortable pattern of life with logan by your sides, but your ex shows up one night to stir up some trouble and the wolverine isn’t having any of it┊2.9k words; prt one, prt two (here), prt three (coming soon)

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: hurt/comfort? mostly fluff, ooc logan probably, single mother reader with an unspecified age but still younger than logan, this chapter is mostly in your perspective, asshole exes, rushed ending what, but love confessions & getting together isn’t that cute

➤ author's note: alright, part two of the single mom! reader & her daughter!! the amount of support i’ve had on this was overwhelming, so sorry that this chapter isn’t on par with the first one, hopefully the next one will be better!

ever since that night, logan found himself rarely going a single day without interacting with you or your daughter. he can’t explain the force that seems to pull him towards the two of you, but he can easily realize that the sheer magnitude of it overpowered the little voice in the back of his head spewing pessimistic comments about how this couldn’t possibly end well just like everything else in his life did. his little made-up rule not to get attached is thrown out the window every time he sees either of you, reminding him that one simply cannot fight against the impossible no matter how much of a hardened killing machine he used to be. how could he try to avoid these feelings when they seemed to fill the hole in his heart until it was bursting at the seams with affection as if it was as easy as the apple pie you sometimes baked to share?

besides, even if he tried to hide this rapidly growing fondness, it’s not like anyone would have let him: not when wade keeps on offering to babysit while you’re at work, not when your baby has picked up the habit of running up to him to ask for hugs or to be picked up, not when you’re a sight for sore eyes as you follow up in the evening in your formal attire and pearls to pick her up, and especially not when althea keeps asking you when you two are getting married with the claim that she doesn’t need sight to see the chemistry happening at the dinner table. 

you’ll laugh and brush it off as the old lady watching too many romance films in her free time, but your cheeks are secretly burning in embarrassment at how literally everyone can tell that you’re crushing like a high schooler in your grown age except for the subject of your fancy. 

logan himself is pretty difficult to read, but thankfully, his roommates are open-book, blunt to a fault, and willing to tell you anything and everything you need to know whether or not you even asked. for example, they confirmed he did indeed have a soft spot for you and your daughter, one that made them howl with laughter as they bully him relentlessly for it (feel free to tell them that they shouldn’t because he’s just being nice, they aren’t going to listen to you). he tries his best to refrain from swearing within earshot, not even under his breath on the off-chance she will hear it and pick it up. he fixes his appearance whenever he knows he’ll see you in an attempt to look more approachable. he never cares to listen to the ongoing conversations about other friends, but he’ll lean in a little closer if it’s about you. he even buys toys or stuffed animals on occasion because he thinks of her when he sees them.

you probably shouldn’t be thinking about these things during such a busy moment of your life when you’re focused on raising your daughter, getting that job promotion in the bag, and finally agreeing to take your ex to court for him to take responsibility by paying child support. although he’s as kind as a man who is as gruff and rugged as he can be, he’s still an older man (both chronologically and biologically) who is a mutant superhero with powers you were still unaware of. it’s not you questioning if he’s safe to be around, it’s you questioning if it’s in his best interest to have a family with all that going on (especially if he wanted to play father to a toddler who had no blood relation to him. playing uncle is one thing, but father? you can never be sure).

still, you would be lying if you said that seeing him being so tender and sweet with your daughter didn’t stir up a domestic image in your mind. a girl could only dream, right? 

recently, he’s been showing up at your doorstep with a toolbox in hand every other day. you’ve been complaining lately about how nothing under your roof seems to work anymore and every time you inform the landlord, you get a half-assed job that falls apart within the span of a week: the pipes are leaking, the windows refuse to open, the gas stove won’t start, and there are also other things you never got around to fixing yourself like a wobbly desk or putting together a little bed for your baby since she’s outgrown her crib.

the conversations usually go a little something like:

“oh, you really don’t need to—”

“no, no, i insist— it’s not like i have anything better to do, and i’ll do a much better job than whatever the fuck those maintenance men have been doing anyways.” he’ll purse his lips at the unintentional curse word which slipped and then push past you. “anyway, which windows have been giving you trouble?”

it takes him an hour maximum to work his magic, always leaving behind something fully functional and stable enough to last for years. you’ll compliment his handy skills and try to push a wad of cash into his hands, but he refuses it every single time. you can’t match his stubborn personality for more than a few minutes, so you’ll sigh and offer him to stay for dinner instead because you refuse to let him go home empty-handed after helping you out so generously. 

while you’re busy rummaging through your pantry and fridge for ingredients to cook something of varying degrees of complexity each time, your daughter will make an appearance to keep logan occupied because you refuse to allow anyone to enter your kitchen ever since that incident with wade. yes, he is more careful and mature, no, you’re not taking any chances. 

tonight, she’s playing forcing him to play with an assortment of dolls. he’s never done this before, and it looks so awkward to see a grown-ass six-foot-two man holding a little blonde barbie limply in his hand without any idea what the setting is or the storyline or the characters supposed to be played, but your girl was smiling and cheerfully babbling something barely legible every time he played along so he wasn’t about to complain about it. 

you hummed a tune while slicing thin slices of beef, completely on autopilot and enjoying the night of peace. the doorbell suddenly rang throughout your apartment and you rushed to wash off your hands before wiping them off with a dishrag, assuming it was one of his roommates. who else could the unannounced visitor be at eight-thirty in the evening?

the smile on your face immediately dropped when you saw the unusually unkempt appearance of your ex-fiancé, reeking of booze with his hair sticking out a little past his ears and rough stubble lining his jaw. before you could even say something, he rudely pushed past you and stood in the center of the unfamiliar space. maybe it was for the best since he definitely would have caused a massive commotion in the hallway and disturbed the neighbors who didn’t need to be subjected to your personal issues. your daughter had fallen silent and stared at him in a mix of confusion and something else that was unreadable yet clearly not joyous in any way. 

the entire world seemed to stop for a moment as you held your breath in anticipation of his next move, wondering if he was going to be amiable or (more likely) stir some trouble to disturb the peace. your eyes met with logan’s and you shifted your gaze to the hallway entrance for a split second to signal him to bring your daughter into her bedroom, sparing her the scare that would come when her father would inevitably lash out. 

he understood immediately and picked her up in a single swift motion, “come on, bub, it’s time to go to bed.” his hand rested her head on his shoulder and she appeared to be okay, just wide-eyed with her thumb in her mouth, almost as if she could recognize the gravity of the situation despite barely being able to comprehend such things. 

“it’s only been a few months, and you’re already living with another man…:

“it’s actually almost been a year, but what are you even doing here? i thought you had a wedding to plan.”

“... wedding’s been canceled…”

“aw, really?” you could already tell where this was going. althea told you plenty of times that once he saw how much better you were doing without him while his life quickly tumbles down a slope, he would come crawling back. she made you promise on your life that you wouldn’t take him back no matter what, whether he begged on his knees promising he’ll be better or revealed he was the new ceo of amazon with riches beyond your imagination. you didn’t quite understand her concerns because the thought of it never crossed your mind once, but she just tutted and reminded you that love was unpredictable before revoking her statement when she remembered you wouldn’t get back together with your ex when the wolverine was on the table.

“she was seeing someone else…”

“well, well, well, you know what they say, ‘karma’s a bitch.’ it’s about time you got a taste of your own medicine, you cheating bastard.”

he took a step towards you and you flinched in response, making the other man standing in the shadows straighten his posture. he was never physically abusive, but you had no idea how he would behave under the influence. “you know she was the reason everything fell apart…”

“oh, don’t try to pin the blame on her when you were the one who was about to get married and you were the one who made the choice to abandon her family. good on her for leaving, and you should do the same.”

“do you ever think there would be anyone who would love you like i did? i was your first, and there isn’t anyone else who would take you as is. hell, i don’t even think the other guy will be around for much longer—”

“alright, i’ve had enough of this.” logan came forward from his spot in the shadows, getting closer to your ex until he was clearly intimidated by his looming figure and threatening aura. it’s the first time you’ve seen such a dangerous edge to him, yet strangely enough, you still felt safe knowing he was acting in your defense (if it was any other man, you probably would have kicked them both out before it could escalate). “get out of here.”

“can’t believe this,” he spat, turning his head to look back at you, “you bitch—”

he grunted at the insult, feeling more pissed off about it being directed at you rather than him, promptly throwing a punch into his face and gripping onto his collar before he could stumble over. an unfamiliar *schlikt* sound was heard before your eyes managed to process the long metal claws mere inches away from gouging out your ex’s eyes, making you gasp quietly in shock.

“okay! okay! i’m leaving!”

“i’ll escort you out,” he growled, still not letting go of him as he shoved him out of the door and closed it behind him, wanting to make sure that he would never come to bother you like this ever again and also drag him to apartment security to ensure they understood not to let him in ever again. 

then once he was gone, logan stood outside in the slight cold for a moment wondering what to do next. he just revealed his true nature to you that he’s been trying so hard to suppress: violent and animalistic. he should just prepare to hear you say that you are now scared of him, that you would prefer it if he didn’t come over anymore and to stay away from you and your daughter. 

the worst part is that he can’t even blame you, and a part of him feels like this was for the best. he was stupid to hope for a peaceful domestic with two human civilians when he was a mutant through and through. still, his heart drops at the thought of your eyes looking at him with fear rather than the usual caring, gentle look that made him forget all of his pain.

there was more impending doom weighing on him as he stalked up the stairs than there ever was for certain death missions.

his hyper-sensitive hearing easily picked up the sound of a baby crying, one that he immediately recognized as your daughter’s. he slowed his pace to hear you trying desperately to calm her down.

“oh, oh, shh, i know, i know,” you sighed, “god, logan, please hurry back…” he practically ran when he heard that, bursting through the door and rushing into the nursery which was in the process of being turned into a proper bedroom. there were slight tears pricking at your eyes when you looked at him, “sorry, can you put her to sleep? s-she won’t stop crying…”

“it’s okay, it’s okay, i got it,” he assured, taking her off your hands and soothingly patting her on the back, “please stop crying, you’re breaking your momma’s heart.”

after a minute or so, her high-pitched wails gradually quieted down, falling asleep in his strong arms and allowing him to place her in her little bed which was newly constructed by him just a few days ago. you led him out of the room, being careful not to make any sudden noises so as to not wake her again, and returned to the living room where it all started.

“i’m sorry you had to do all that,” you groaned, placing a palm on your forehead in a poor attempt to ease the forming headache. “i really don’t know what i would have done without you…”

“don’t apologize, i’m happy to help… but i completely understand if you don’t want to see me ever again…” he wasn’t sure why he brought it up when you didn’t even say anything about it, but perhaps he wanted to get the inevitable over with because this conversation would have happened sooner or later.

“what? why would i never want to see you again when you just saved me from my ex?” you asked, genuinely confused as you moved to pour out two glasses of wine and plopped down onto the couch with your head thrown back. “is it because of the claws? i don’t really care about that stuff— i mean wade runs around with at least one knife and gun on him at all times. besides, it’s not like you can’t control them, they only came out because you were trying to protect me…”

“well, yes, but—”

“logan, i really don’t care that you’re a mutant or a former killer or whatever— you’re a superhero who runs around in yellow spandex, fights evil, and is the only one who can get my daughter to sleep most of the time— i trust you.”

“... you do?”

“of course, i do,” you reach out and motion him to join you, leaning against his frame and feeling all of your stress dissipate at the contact. “i trust you with my life and you’ll always have a home here, i want you to know that..”

logan was silent for a moment, trying to remember the last time he heard words along those lines. “i don’t know if you mean that…”

“of course, i do, why wouldn’t i? although…”

“although?”

“i… i don’t think i could handle being just friends for much longer.” you cringed at your own words, sounding like a fucking teenager who was confessing to her first love. something straight out of a cheesy romance movie, or as deadpool would say, straight out of a fanfiction written by a lonely teenager who is trying to move the plot along and finish up. “god, that was so stupid—”

“well, no one said we had to be ‘just friends.’”

you looked at him ludicrously, “really? do you mean that?”

“i mean… if you’re okay with an old man who has adamantium claws in his knuckles…”

“are you okay with a lady who’s a single mom?”

“i think mine is a lot worse than that. sweetheart,” he chuckled, returning to the light-hearted tone. “so… does that mean i can kiss you?” 

you hummed, “of course, you can.”

even with your spoken consent, he still seemed a little hesitant when his hand found its way to the back of your head and he stared deeply into your eyes. his gaze was honestly a bit overwhelming since you’ve never seen anyone else look at you that way before, making you wonder if this was how to felt to be truly desired as a person.

you leaned forward to finish the kiss for him, a quick peck at first, then a deeper one that carried all of the bottled-up feelings from the previous few months. it wasn’t anything too crazy, yet it felt like your very first kiss all over again, clumsy and inexperienced. when you finally separated from him, you pressed your nose against his and giggled, “spend the night?”

“i thought you would never ask.”

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